


Jonathan Murphy and the Waistband Conspiracy

by Blackrising, Miralana



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Weight Gain, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrising/pseuds/Blackrising, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miralana/pseuds/Miralana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He grabbed his shoes and pulled them over his feet as fast as he could, trying to ignore how his belly spilled over the waistband as he bent down and left the house without another word.<br/>Normally he would feel bad for just leaving like a fucking coward but drastic times required drastic measures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jonathan Murphy and the Waistband Conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Blackrising's fic "Slopes And Curves".  
> Which means that we spent one afternoon in the living room with our laptops and too much take-out and wrote two fics about the same events, but from different POVs.  
> So if you like Clexa or you want to know about all the stuff Murphy missed while he was whining about his pathetic little life, you should definitely [click this link](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4119808)
> 
> I would also like to add that this is in no way meant to put down people with bigger bodies. This is just two people who never had to deal with gaining weight being confused and a little scared by something that's totally foreign to them. Also they're being assholes about it, bc it's Murphy and Clarke. You can't expect anything else.

He couldn’t close his pants. It was an absolute nightmare and Murphy was in no way ready to admit that something had happened to make them tighter. Especially not with Bellamy lying on the bed behind him. Because they hadn’t done anything else than lying in bed all day.

He had always had a very slim body with thin arms and legs and narrow hips that made a belt necessary.

“Everything okay?” He wasn’t sure if he imagined the tone of amusement in Bellamy’s voice but he was honestly a little bit too confused – and definitely too horrified – to actually care about anything Bellamy did at the moment.

He was also pretty sure that his pants had not been that tight yesterday evening when he had taken them off and fallen down on the bed without even looking at Bellamy. Without even having sex. Something was definitely going on and it definitely had something to do with the pants-conspiracy.

So Murphy didn’t answer but tried to line up the button with the opening with all the force he could manage with his arms.

When that was done he didn’t even try to close the belt – because it had belonged to a child and that had never been a problem before because at least it wasn’t too big – but just pulled it out of the belt loops and dropped it on the floor.

When he looked down he could see something above his waistband. It was just the barest hint of skin spilling out but he was able to see it, even though his shirt was covering it.

“Murphy?” Bellamy asked again and Murphy blinked. There was some kind of buzzing in his ears and he tried to pull up his trousers a bit to make the skin go back inside them but it was a fruitless effort.

He should probably leave before Bellamy got up and looked a little closer at him – which was something Bellamy really liked to do – or made him turn around.

“I got to go. Things.” He pressed out and even to his own ears his voice sounded kind of thin.

He grabbed his shoes and pulled them over his feet as fast as he could, trying to ignore how his belly spilled over the waistband as he bent down and left the house without another word.

Normally he would feel bad for just leaving like a fucking coward but drastic times required drastic measures.

 

* * *

 

As soon as he stepped outside he was greeted with the hot sun that he had grown so accustomed to ever since reaching Polis and for the first time in three months he couldn’t even be impressed by the tall buildings and the ornaments that were cut and chiselled into every wall to mark what kind of house it was and who lived there.

He looked around for a moment, trying to figure out if there was a good place to have his identity crisis. Probably not. There wasn’t a single place in that damned – but very beautiful city – where someone could have some sort of privacy.

So he walked about ten feet to the left and sat down on a stone bench that marked the border between his and Bellamy’s guesthouse and Clarke’s – and to an extent Lexa’s because Murphy knew that she had spent more time at Clarkes’s than at her own because they were going at it at all times of the night and day.

He sat there for about two minutes, arms wrapped around his upper body in an attempt to conceal the obvious roll peeking out of his trousers.

It wasn’t really like he had a problem with gaining a little bit of weight – god knows he might really need that in the winter which was not that close because the summer was just about to start – but it was just… it had never happened to him before because there had never been enough food and it wasn’t something he thought he would ever have to deal with.

He felt privileged and lazy like he could have spent his time doing something else than eating – and getting fucked six ways to Sunday – at every waking moment.

When he heard a door slam Murphy turned his head around, some part of him fearing it might be Bellamy – and some part hoping for it – but there was no one coming from his own house so he looked towards the left and saw Clarke standing right outside her door.

There was a dark expression on her face and after a closer look she did look kind of different. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen her in a few days but he was pretty sure that her face hadn’t been _that_ round before. Not that particularly he cared about seeing her much. But now she looked like she was wearing Lexa’s clothes. Clothes that were at least two sizes too small for her.

_Well look at that._

“So… couldn’t find any clothes that fit you?” He said, smirk creeping on his face at her obvious discomfort. She looked like she might be willing to murder him as soon as she stopped fumbling at the hem of her shirt.

It made him incredibly happy to see that he wasn’t the only one _suffering_ from the Grounders hospitality.

“Are you hiding something, Murphy?” She said with her eyes narrowed and Murphy felt the sudden need to straighten himself up and not show any sign of discomfort on his own side. He wasn’t sure if it worked the way he wanted but he did manage to sit upright, fingers clenched in the fabric of his legs. It put his stomach on display but at least his pants weren’t tight enough to make anyone see his cellulite. Not that he had that but that was totally not the point.

“You’ve gained weight as well.” She hissed, pointing her finger at him. “You’re just as bad as me!”

Since he couldn’t let an accusation like that stand he jumped to his feet, ready to fight her for the right of being the one who had gained less weight. Not that she had gained that much weight and she actually didn’t look bad.

“At least I don’t look like my clothes will explode any second, _Princess_!” He fired back at her. It was harsh – probably a bit too harsh to be honest – but she gasped and then took a few steps forward into his personal space, poking his chest with one of her fingers.

“Well, your face looks like a potato.” She claimed and made him take a step back with every poke of her finger. He looked down at her sharp fingernails continually maltreating his sensitive little chest.

“And what’s wrong with your chest?” She asked, her eyebrows raised mockingly.

“Lexa has more chest muscles than you.” His eyes widened.

How dare she to say something like that? Something that was definitely not true. Not that any of the things he had said were true but that also not the point.

He opened his mouth to counter with something smart but could only close and open it again before he finally found the right thing to say.

“That’s because your _girlfriend_ has no tits to speak of.”

Clarke’s face darkened.

So maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say because she looked like she was about to kill him. But she definitely had it coming.

“She’s got more than enough.” She snarled, reminding him of a rabid dog. The only thing missing was the spit dropping from her chin. She had everything else going for her.

“At the moment you got more than enough for both of you.” Oh fuck this, he wasn’t feeling good about himself and that only made him less willing to deal with her bullshit. “Tell me, _Princess_ , does she have to be on top so you don’t smother her?”

Her lower eyelid started twitching dangerously and she took a deep breath. An incredibly fake smile crept onto her face as she tilted her head towards him. It was absolutely terrifying.

“So, _John_ , what’s Bellamy’s opinion now that you’ve gone from unattractive to hideously ugly? When was the last time he looked at you while he was doing you?”

He was going to kill her. And then he was going to revive her and kill her again.

Not that she didn’t have a point because if they had done it at all in the last few weeks they had done it in the dark and mostly clothed and also from behind, which wasn’t that usual, but they were both known for having sex in public in the most unfortunate places because they had discovered that kink around hour one of their relationship, but that was absolutely not relevant!

He felt the shock creeping up on him as he realised that she was right but he was absolutely not ready to admit that. So he shook his head, trying to concentrate on the issue at hand.

“And when was the last time you and the Commander had sex at all, huh?” He shot back and watched her open her mouth. He watched her think about it and with every second her eyes became wider. Horror and then realisation settled on her face and he felt particularly smug about the fact that he wasn’t the only one suffering.

Even if he was suffering from being unloved by the only person who seemed to actually like him a little bit. Oh god, he had it just as bad as Clarke.

They exchanged knowing looks and opened their mouths at the same time.

“He doesn’t find me attractive anymore.”

“She doesn’t find me attractive anymore.”

This was horrible. Nervously he bit down on his fingernail, nibbling on it like he had done right after his dad and then his mum had died.  
“We’re done for. We’re gonna have to work out.” The thought was horrible. If there was one thing he really didn’t want to do it was working out. He was working out enough while running from everyone else. He had run through a desert and had nearly been eaten by a sea monster. That was definitely enough working out for the next five years.

And what was he supposed to do? Do sit-ups on the main road? Start jogging around the town walls? Train with the warriors?

The thought alone was ridiculous.

Maybe he should just stop eating at all these stupid banquets Bellamy always dragged him too. Or maybe the Grounders should just stop serving such delicious food. Because as soon as Murphy had discovered the deliciousness of chocolate, everything had been over.

He groaned and gripped his hair with sweaty fingers, messing it up even more than it already was. Bellamy had braided it a few days ago but he lacked the finesse of the Grounders – who had offered to do it but had to step down after Murphy had to deal with a very jealous Bellamy.

But the thought of having to miss any of that or actually having to exercise had him ready to just rip all of it out.

"There is no way in hell I'm going to-"

Two throats were noisily cleared in the background.

“Never thought I’d see you two talking,” said a voice that made Murphy open his eyes in shock as Bellamy strolled over to him, placing himself right next to him and crossed his arms in front of his chest, like he always did when Murphy had done something stupid and he needed to step in because he was a hero and spent all of his time sticking his nose into things that didn’t concern him. He always ended up protecting Murphy but it was just something Bellamy did because he had no self-preservation.

It was a familiar gesture that always made Murphy’s heart flutter right until the moment he realised that Bellamy was probably doing it so he didn’t have to touch him because he never touched him in public.

He noticed the Commander standing a few feet away from Clarke, arms behind her back and watching them with observant eyes. She looked like she was going to kill him because he had dared to say a word to her precious girlfriend. He hoped that she hadn’t heard anything that he had said to Clarke.

“Has he been making trouble for you, Clarke?” She asked, her voice cold and threatening. Her gazed wandered over to Clarke and Murphy nearly raised his eyebrows because she looked Clarke up and down and that definitely wasn’t checking if someone was harmed or rattled in any other way. She looked like she was about to eat her whole. Which wasn’t really a thought that Murphy wanted to follow but it was so typical that Clarke complained about the Commander not loving her when she had someone who looked at her like that.

But she still looked at him like she was going to rip him apart. Defending himself might be in order.

“I didn’t-“ Murphy said, but Bellamy placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him one of _those_ looks.

“Whatever it was,” he started. “It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.

Oh, that was so typical. Bellamy didn’t find him attractive anymore and on top of that he didn’t even trust him to speak for himself.

But he didn’t complain when Bellamy grabbed his upper arm and dragged him towards their house.

He turned his head and looked back at Clarke and the Commander, who placed her hand on Clarke’s back, guiding her gently towards their guesthouse. Probably to tell her how much she loved her, even if she had to buy Clarke new clothes and then they would have loud sex which Murphy would be able to hear because he could _always_ hear them.

Murphy hated them.

 

* * *

 

Inside Murphy ripped his arm out of Bellamy’s hold and took a few steps away from him.

“What was that about?” Bellamy asked, arms crossed again and Murphy turned around. There was a good chance that Bellamy had already seen everything that there was to see – and there certainly was a lot – but he didn’t feel comfortable because Bellamy certainly wasn’t comfortable with the new additions to his body.

“Nothing. Just talking.” He shrugged and moved a cup on the table an inch to the left to do something.

“Murphy.” Bellamy drew out the last letter longer than necessary and Murphy clenched his teeth.

Suddenly two arms wrapped around him, right at his waist and there was absolutely no way for Bellamy not to feel it.

“Don’t.” He struggled in Bellamy’s grip but as always Bellamy wasn’t just holding him, he was holding him in place. Murphy knew that Bellamy would let him go if he really tried but he didn’t fight that hard.

After all Bellamy was touching him, even if he was feeling everything that was going on with his body.

“That’s your problem?” There was an unmistaken hint of amusement in Bellamy’s voice and Murphy felt his face warm up. Bellamy’s hand slipped under his shirt, squeezing the skin.

“My problem is,” Murphy said and twisted out of Bellamy’s grip. Bellamy’s hands settled on the table so Murphy was still pressed against it with his ass. Murphy raised a hand and poked Bellamy in the chest just like Clarke had done with him before because he really felt like doing that. “That it’s apparently a problem for you.”

Bellamy tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together. He blinked, confused, like Murphy wasn’t making a lot of sense.

“I don’t get it,” he said and leaned closer, as if he was trying to prove something.

“You haven’t touched me in days, don’t pretend like you didn’t do that on purpose,” he said and pushed his hands against Bellamy’s chest.

“We’ve been busy, Murphy…” Bellamy said like he was being stupid. “And we did have sex, three days ago.”

“From behind and clothed.” Which again wasn’t something unusual for them. It just added up to everything else.

“I like how you look from behind.” Bellamy said and put one of his hands on Murphy’s hips. He hated how much the fabric of his trousers streched over his hips with the added size and how fond Bellamy looked as he squeezed them.

“I especially like how your ass looks now.”

“Are you saying that you get off on me being fat?!” His voice sounded a lot shriller than he wanted it to and Bellamy groaned.

“I like that it doesn’t look like it belongs to a corpse.” Bellamy let one of his hands wander down towards his ass and Murphy scowled at him.

“And I like that I don’t get bruises from your hips anymore.” Bellamy’s head dropped down and he kissed Murphy, open mouthed.

“You never got bruises from my hips, asshole,” he added and let Bellamy press himself fully against him. And, well Bellamy might still be attracted to him, that was for sure.

“It was kinda uncomfortable.” Murphy pushed himself up on the table – because he could still do that – and Bellamy stepped between his legs.

“So you’re not… disgusted?” He added and hated how thin his voice sounded because he shouldn’t be so insecure. What did he care if Bellamy didn’t find him attractive anymore? Which he apparently still did? But Bellamy was a guy and sometimes guys got hard without being attracted to someone. That was something that happened to him too.

“I don’t mind.” Bellamy said and rolled his eyes, when the corner of Murphy’s mouth turned down.

“You look a lot healthier,” he kissed Murphy’s cheek.

“And better,” He kissed his jaw.

“I like how you feel,” His fingers gripped Murphy’s waist again, slipping under his shirt.

“And I like how you look.” His fingers played with the waistband of his trousers.

“You just wanna get laid.” Murphy said, eyebrows raised. Bellamy chuckled but kissed him again and Murphy realised that he might really be fine with Bellamy only pretending to be okay with his weight if he would just continue doing that.

“Murphy,” Bellamy said, suddenly serious again. “I really don’t mind. And I really like how you feel.”

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Yeah okay, that’s enough of that. Stop talking, please.”

Bellamy opened his mouth and Murphy put his hand over it to stop him from saying more stupid cheesy things because that wasn’t them and maybe Murphy had overreacted a little bit.

“So am I gonna get laid or what?” Bellamy’s voice was muffled behind his hand and Murphy actually had to grin at that and took his hand away.

They lazily kissed against the table for a few minutes, half listening to the other house, but there was nothing coming from there so maybe they needed a suggestion.

“Murphy?” Bellamy said against his lips. His fingers were hovering at Murphy’s waistband. Bellamy always liked to slip his hands inside his pants without opening them, just touching him, feeling around. It still felt weird because he wasn’t used to being like this but maybe… maybe he could be deal with it.

“I think I need to open your pants to get my fingers inside.”

Oh god no. Was there something more embarrassing?

And then Bellamy proceeded to do just that before Murphy could do anything – not that he would know what to do because he kind of wanted Bellamy to open his pants. Bellamy stopped, a frown on his face and Murphy looked down too. He ignored how the extra skin spilled out of his waistband, now that the button was open. The zipper was still up.

“I can’t get it down.”

Murphy pushed Bellamy hands away and turned around. He tried to open the zipper himself but it wouldn’t move an inch. His face was heating up again because the zipper was stuck. _Because there was too much fat on him_.

Bellamy’s hands touched his waist and Murphy pushed them away. He had never felt this embarrassed in his whole life and it’s just because he didn’t have any self-control when it came to food.

“Murphy come on.”

“Get away from me.”

“Murphy that’s not a bad thing.”

“We are never ever having sex again.”

Bellamy sighed and then Murphy was forcefully turned around. Bellamy pressed himself against him, still hard, still determined, and Murphy wanted to, he really did, but how was he supposed to do that when he couldn’t even get out of his own pants?

“And how do you think this is going to happen?” His voice was a lot more bitter than he wanted it to be but Bellamy just grinned at him.

“Well I do have a knife.”

Suddenly there was a loud “thump” coming from the open window and Murphy was reminded about Clarke and the Commander in the other house who were apparently having sex. And not so silently – they were so loud it had to be on purpose. If Clarke deserved to get laid then he definitely did too.

“Get the fucking knife.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come and hang out with me at [tumblr](http://everknowing.tumblr.com).


End file.
